


The birdcage

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [124]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, HYDRA Husbands, Hybrids, M/M, Ownership, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:15:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25154581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: Jack receives a gift he's not sure he's ready for.
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [124]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/547894
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18
Collections: Wingfic Exchange June 2020





	The birdcage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winter_angst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_angst/gifts).



> 💙

It’s October, and officially Jack Rollins’ eighteenth birthday. He’d be happy if not for the dread welling up at the pit of his stomach. He sat calmly anyway, perched at the end of his bed, hands clasped together over his lap while waiting for the gift he was promised as tradition dictated.

It is rolled out with a lumbered, rattling noise by the royal servants, a tall and symmetrical shape obscured by a heavy white cloth. Following after it was his parents, their advisor and a small handful of ladies-in-waiting, much too excited over something he didn’t find much of a thrill in. Their expectant gazes rested on him as he finally climbed off the bed and approached the object with a nervous twitch of his fingers. Grasping the cloth fabric firmly, he hesitated, much too aware of what he already knew was hidden beneath and how unkind it was to bestow such a gift of cruelty he was going to have to accept. It was fate, and unfortunate, that he was a young man who followed his father’s lead. To refuse him would have led to much worse.

Jack tugged on the cloth and it pooled to the floor in a heap, leaving his new reality bare before him.

In front of his eyes was a massive bird cage, bars of polished gold glinting against the morning sunlight streaming through the open window. But it was the man inside the cage, well partially a man, that left him at a loss for words. His torn dark pants were barely holding on, and his chest was bare. It was the wings though, the ones extended out of the man’s back that made him dumbfounded. They were the most beautiful pair he’d ever seen, a kind of peacock blue speckled with reflective silvers and golds. 

He had known of course that as the prince and sole heir, he would be given only the highest quality hybrid to keep as a pet, but he had vastly underestimated just how captivating such unnatural beauty could be. It is with a great amount of willpower that he forced his gaze away from rippling feathers to train his eyes on the man's face. After one surprise, he wasn’t ready for another, as his gaze landed upon human features on a face just as equally captivating. Sharp bone structure framed around copper brown eyes that possessed an almost feral intensity. A shiver ripped down Jack’s spine as he and his pet locked eyes, the look of haunted desperation impossible to misinterpret in the other's gaze.

"Is this pet to your liking, Your Highness?"

The voice, belonging to one of the servants, was almost enough to snap him out of his trance, but not quite. Jack nodded absently, hoping his distracted admiration was not clearly evident. After all, it was a general understanding that if one was to look at a pet with such adoration as he was, it was nothing short of unnatural. 

"I..I would like some time alone, please. I’d like to take all this in.” He managed to say, his throat dry and his chest too tight. 

His eyes barely strayed off before he met his father’s, a silent request given to him that he was appreciative was seen easily. The king nodded and gestured for the room to clear, servants hurrying to make a path outward. “Take as long as you wish, my son. Eventually you will grow used to it, with time.”

With that, him and his mother as well as the rest vacated the room, leaving Jack with no time to process his words or even the reality that he was now left alone with his not entirely human _pet_. His intense gaze continued to penetrate into his very soul and caused his skin to prickle. 

He approached the cage, one hand aching to stretch out and yet he knew it may not have been a smart idea too just yet. The creature instantly shied back the closer he got, wings tucked tight and compact against his body as he moved closer towards the back bars of his prison. Jack’s lips pressed tight into a line, a mix of disappointment blending in with curiosity, but it was the latter that gave his body permission to take another step. The winged man's eyes narrowed further with suspicion, and Jack knew he should say something, _anything_ , to ease the other.

_ I won’t hurt you. _

_ I didn’t want you given to me in the first place. _

What left from his lips instead was much more earnest, more honest, than what he intended and it was a surprise to him as much as his newcomer.

"You're beautiful."

There was genuine befuddlement on the creature's face as he raised an eyebrow at Jack. He waited expectantly, feeling the slight warmth of embarrassment rushing to his cheeks as he contemplated what he had just uttered. He wasn’t even sure if the man understood, or if he even spoke, what if he-

“Was that supposed to be somethin’ to entice me over?”

His voice was rusty, as if he had not used it for days, perhaps even weeks. But it had a roughness that seemed to lure Jack in for more. 

“I was only admitting my thoughts out loud.”

The man's lips, previously frowning with suspicion, now shifted into a smirk. Jack felt his chest grow tighter still, the beat of his heart quickened. The more he thought about how this being was supposed to be  _ his _ and that he was a _pet_ , it just seemed more preposterous to even consider it. To the naked eye, this man was astonishingly beautiful and it seemed so very wrong to keep him caged up, hidden away from all. Every expression he made set Jack's heart pound faster, and they'd barely been together for five minutes.

"What? Tryin’ to get in my good graces now that you’ve decided on keepin’ me?" He ran a hand through his hair, and Jack found himself entranced by the delicate way his fingers curved along the top of his head, brushing back bangs refusing to sit back. He swallowed. "You ain’t even bothered askin’ if I had a name either, too busy oglin’ like everyone else around ‘ere.” 

"Then tell it to me." Jack said carefully, trying to force himself to keep his gaze locked to the other man’s without faltering. "Please. Tell me your name."

The creature's lips pressed into a thoughtful line, smirk slipping away for the moment. He seemed a bit thrown off at Jack’s clear need to know, and possibly the way he was asking instead of telling him what to do. He seemed to shake away his thoughts, his eyes wandering past Jack’s head to study the bedroom. "It's Brock..Brock Rumlow."

"Brock.." The name felt heavy in his mouth, like it had an importance to it. "I'm Jack."

"Yeah, I know." Brock snorted. “ _Yer Highness_.” 

Of course he would know. Jack was part of the royal family, even if he’d never seen his face before, he was sure they made sure Brock  _ knew _ before he was taken to him. "It’s an automatic gesture, of courtesy.” 

Brock sneered. "That’s a joke. What courtesy is there when I’m ‘ere like this? What’s yer game? Tryin’ to make friends so it’ll be easier to convince me to act like some kinda mutt and play out tricks fer all yer friends? Or so I’ll sit still when someone asks if they can pet my wings?”

Jack's mother's pet had done all those things for her and more as he recalled. She seemed to like it, enjoyed being the center of attention and amusement, but the thought never sat well in his mind, especially with how Brock was here. He was such a captured beauty and was much too human to be contained in this manner. "I only want to get to know you."

Wings unfurling slightly, Brock leaned forward, staring harshly at his face as if trying to detect a lie. "Ya really expect me to believe that?"

"I would like you to, yes."

Brock was silent for a moment, and then he abruptly began to laugh, arms bound tight across his chest as mocking glee tore through the room. It wasn’t pretty by any means, but Jack could only think about how cathartic it may have been for Brock to let it go. 

"Are ya serious?" Brock finally managed to force out after a good few minutes of shaking, struggling to gather enough air. "Fer someone apparently so damn educated, ya really don't know nothin’ huh? Look all around ya, then look at me. No, _really_ look at me and where I am with yer own damn two eyes. Unless yer completely blind, which I’m pretty sure you ain’t, you can see the reality, can't ya? I'm in a goddamn cage, and yer not. You'll never trust me, ‘cause you'll keep me ‘ere as yer pet by force. And then, with that goin’ on, I'll never trust you either. As long as that's the case, I'll never tell ya anythin’ about myself and no matter what ya do to punish me fer it, that’s the end of it.” 

Jack froze still, for a long moment they just stared at one another and slowly, as the intensity passed them, he eventually shifted his shoulder, only slightly, but it was enough for Brock to mimic a slight flit of some feathers. 

“I’m blind in one eye though.”

Brock stared at him, like he couldn’t understand, and that was a possibility. “What?”

“You said..” Jack formed the words carefully, making sure he made sense. “You said look at you with both my eyes. Only one works.”

Brock did that thing again where he was staring at him hard and tried to find the lie, though this time he was more staring at his eyes. “Huh. You ain’t kiddin’, ones a little more- “

“I _know_.” He didn’t like talking about it so much, his left arm braced over his middle, right hand clutched at his forearm like he was securing himself in.

“Huh.” Brock said again.

Jack decided to go back to the original conversation, thoughtful for a moment. "What if I let you out?"

Not for the first time, the creature looked confused. "What?"

"I’ll let you out." Jack repeated, a bit more insistently this time. "I have the key too." He retrieved it from the inside pocket of his coat to hold it up. “See? Would you talk to me then?” 

Another mocking laugh from Brock. "If ya let me out, I could easily knock ya down and fly outta here, never lookin’ back. You know that, right?”

Jack nodded. "I know, but I would rather you not do that. I would prefer you stay, and tell me about yourself. I want to know about you, from one man to another. The choice will ultimately be yours though, of course.”

"And you'll trust me, jus like that?" Brock asked skeptically.

Even before Jack answered, his hand was already moving to insert the key into the lock. "We haven’t spoken long enough for me to decide whether or not you’re trustworthy, but I guess we’re about to find out.” 

The gate on the front of the cage swung open and Jack found himself holding his breath.

It now seemed evident that it was Brock’s turn to feel unsure. He glanced around as if expecting some kind of punishment at any moment. When nothing came, he took one step out of the cage, then another, his wings unfurling as he did. Jack was at a loss, captivated by the way the room's light danced off every feather like waves, silvers and golds causing each intricate feather to glimmer in its own unique way. It was also the way Brock’s entire body moved in a sync with his heavy appendages like he had already mastered it, despite Jack’s assumption he may not have, it was with a synergy and purpose, a language all of his own.

"Like what ya see?" Brock said with a chuckle, stretching out his wings once he was fully out of his cage, his arms going over his head as well, neck softly popping as he tilted it from one side to the other. "To be honest, I’m pretty used to ‘em, I jus hate how weird people get about them, like I’m some kinda monster among ‘em.” 

"You're not though." Jack tried to assure. "You’re more like a living art form."

"Do ya think first before ya say the things ya say or do they jus come out since no one’s gonna call ya out?” But Brock was smiling favorably and Jack was okay with that.

Jack shook his head. “I do think about what I say before I say them.” It was just right then that he was talking like an idiot. “Would you mind if I touched them?”

“What?”

Jack felt his face heating up. “Your wings.”

Brock looked mildly annoyed, and then disgusted. It made Jack regret asking. “So you really ain’t ‘ere to jus talk and get to know one another like we could have some kinda friendship. You jus want the things you think of doin’ to be normal fer you, yer still gonna treat me like yer the boss, pet me like some kinda dog.” 

Jack didn’t have any plans to pet Brock like a dog. He was just curious, fascinated by all of him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound that way. I just thought you were fascinating, as a whole. All the others I’ve met were meek, wanting nothing more than to look pretty and make their owner happy. You..you’re different. You’re still your person, you’re still defiant and here I want you to feel like you can keep all that, and talk to me.”

Brock turned away and Jack wasn’t sure what he was thinking. He hoped he wasn’t further insulted. When he turned back his way after a much too long moment, his features weren’t softer but the harsh aggressive looks had dissipated. He shuffled in closer, so close that the edges of his wings could have touched Jack. “Go ahead.”

Hesitantly, the back of Jack’s fingers stretched out until he could feel the softness of the feathers there against his skin, and could feel Brock eventually twitching underneath his touch. There was a small lull before Brock startled back abruptly and Jack looked at his face, worried. “Sorry, did I do something wrong?” 

Brock’s eyes darted from side to side. “No, uh, it’s jus that it kinda tickled.”

Jack smiled. He couldn’t help himself, and it felt good to do it even if a genuine one made his face feel sore. It’d been a long while since he’d had a chance to. “Sorry.” 

“No ya ain’t!” Brock snapped, the tips of his ears too red and his wings had fluffed up with indignation to punctuate his sentiment.

Jack struggled to not think of how adorable that was. 

The moment passed, and they both slipped back into a tense awkwardness, the reality of their situation making itself known once again. Jack knew in the long run, that they could be  _ friends _ all he’d like, but at the end of the day Brock was someone he _owned_ , and there was nothing he could do about it.

Even if Jack set up a way to let him go, it would hardly help. He was a rare creature to have and most likely he’d be hunted down after word spread of the riches his reward of return would bring.

Could they ever truly live as equals?

“So..what now?” Brock said, breaking through his thoughts.

When Jack looked over, he saw that Brock’s wings weren't stretched out anymore, but folded up against his back, guarded. 

“I’m not exactly sure.” He admitted. “Would you like a little tour?”

“Not right now.” Brock said, folding his arms over his bare chest, and then letting them drop again. “To be honest, I’m actually kinda tired. I ain’t had much sleep worryin’ about everythin’ and then once they forced me into that cage, I jus couldn’t relax.” He shrugged. “I’ve jus been wired all day, stressed.” 

“I can understand what you mean.” Jack replied weakly. He’d never experienced anything even close to that, but he could empathize how terrifying it may have been for him.

“Do ya mind if I jus, I dunno..maybe take a nap?”

At closer inspection, Jack hadn’t initially noticed the dark smudges under Brock’s eyes and he realized it wasn’t something normal to him. He nodded and jutted his chin towards his bed. “You can sleep on my bed instead of going back in the cage.”

An eyebrow quirked upward. “Yer offerin’ me, to sleep in a prince’s bed? Don’t that, I ‘unno set me up to get punishment or somethin’?”

Jack shrugged. “Maybe, I guess. I don’t really know, or care. I’m not going to force you back into that cage. I do have a lock for my door, even with keys no one will dare open it before knocking and waiting for an answer.” 

Jack felt himself smiling again, he wasn’t sure what specifically it was getting him in this mood. 

“Thanks, I think.” But he could see the way Brock’s shoulders relaxed, even his wings seem to smooth out a bit more. He crawled into Jack’s bed without a second thought, and laid out on his side with a content sigh, wings draped at his back and over his form. 

“What about you?” He mumbled, his eyes already fluttering shut. “Are ya really gonna jus watch me like some creep?” 

Jack shook his head, retrieving a light throw from the cabinet despite the layers Brock had been laid out on, it was then that he remembered he wouldn’t have seen his answer. He rested the blanket close to Brock’s reach. “No, I’ll be at my desk writing some thank you messages for some gifts that came in earlier this week.”

Brock snorted, he looked a bit silly doing it while his eyes were still shut. “Ain’t that a hardship, huh? Must be a real tough job bein’ a prince and all that.” 

“Yes." He answered pointedly but without anger. "I also suppose if anyone overhears the pompous way you go on about me, they’d insist you deserve a smaller, much more cramped cage than what you were brought in with. So it would be wise to be quiet and take your much needed nap.”

When nothing else was said, Jack turned to lock the door. He lingered there leaning against it, watching the rise and fall of Brock’s chest as his breathing began to shallow. After all that happened, he finally looked truly relaxed and Jack let out a relieved sigh, taking it as a small victory.

He moved to his desk, sitting himself down against his chair with a care to not make a pinch of noise and he sat with pen in hand, reams of paper awaiting his words, a small stack of already addressed envelopes waiting to be used. While it was easy to sit there and plan to write his thank yous, he couldn’t help but dart his eyes instead over to Brock’s sleeping form over and over again.

_ Beautiful. _

He didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t stop himself from watching Brock sleep the whole entire time.


End file.
